Mist and Vapors

The darkness in the dungeon was near absolute, the only light coming from the faintly luminescent face of a clock on the bookcase. It was about half past six in the morning, he noted, looking up at the dimly glowing circle. They had been asleep for nearly nine hours.

She was still sleeping, holding on to him as she had throughout the night. A few times she had stirred, and he had held her tighter as she cried out in her sleep. She had blindly reached up to feel his face, relaxing as her hand ran over his cheekbones, nose, and mouth. Once, he had awakened with a start, gasping at some instantly forgotten dream-image. She had not even woken up, yet her mere presence had somehow been comforting. It had seemed an unaccustomed, almost guilty, pleasure to feel her warm body next to his, to be able to press his face against her hair and hold her tighter and pretend she belonged there.

He looked down on her now, not ready to wake her just yet. His eyes, used to seeing in the dark, could just barely make out the traces of her face. With a soft wave of the wand, the clock-face glowed brighter. He could see her chest lifting gently with each breath; dark eyelashes lay quietly against pale skin; her lips were softly parted, relaxed.

Startling, unexpected, the thought came: what would it be like to kiss her? His experience in that field was limited - there had been a few wet, sloppy kisses up on the Astronomy Tower, a rite of passage for every Hogwarts student, shared with the girl that nobody else wanted. Later, there had been encounters in Knockturn Alley, where he would sit in a pub, waiting until a witch had knocked back enough Old Ogden's so even he had started looking good to her - encounters hasty and sordid, kisses that tasted of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor and desperation. He had decided soon thereafter that he would rather have nothing than that.

He chased away the thoughts in embarrassment as she turned her head, stirring as if starting to wake. This would not do at all.

She slowly opened her eyes, looked around for a few seconds, disoriented, and then turned up her face towards him. When she saw his eyes open, watching her, she smiled.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

"Half past six."

"Is that all?"

"We did go to bed rather early."

"I suppose we did..." She closed her eyes again. "I don't think I want to get up yet. I don't have a class until ten..."

"I don't think Dumbledore will expect either of us to teach today."

She winced as she rolled on her back. "Gads, I'm stiff. But at least my voice seems to be functioning again."

"Here." He reached over to the nightstand and handed her two phials of potion. "You should take some more of these."

While she drained the potion, he flicked his wand, and two wall sconces started softly glowing, leaving half the room still in shadow.

She sat up, self-consciousness returning with the light, and semi-successfully tried to restore some semblance of order to her hair with her fingers. "I must look a fright," she muttered under her breath.

"There's an unused toothbrush in the top drawer, and towels in the cabinet, if you want to freshen up," he said awkwardly.

"I think I will. Thank you."

After she picked up her robe and shoes and padded off to the bathroom on bare feet, he sat up and took his potions. He felt much better today - the paralyzing fatigue of the day before had faded away, and the remaining neuralgia was quite manageable and becoming ever more so as the potions began to work. Now that those more pressing concerns had been dealt with, he became aware of another need that had been pushed aside - namely, that there was a gaping hole where his stomach used to be. The fact that he had not eaten in well over twenty-four hours - food obviously being something else that Frank Hannigan didn't think former Death Eaters were entitled to - suddenly demanded to be acknowledged, and sooner rather than later.

"Professor Snape be wanting Gwinny?" The house-elf had answered his summons immediately.

"Yes. Could you see to it that I get some breakfast? I think I will eat in today."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir." The house-elf hesitated as she turned to leave. She looked up at him over her shoulder with a wide, embarrassed grin, her ears folded back slightly. With her head, she motioned towards the bathroom, from where the sound of running water still emanated. "Should Gwinny be bringing enough breakfast for two, sir?"

Snape looked down at her with narrowed eyes. "I suppose you might as well. Go now. And Gwinny - not a word to anyone."

The house-elf made a zipping motion with her fingers across her mouth. "Gwinny be quiet as a mouse." She wrinkled her forehead. "Mices not be so quiet, really. They squeaks. Gwinny be quiet as a clam. Yes, much better." With a satisfied nod and a soft pop, she disappeared.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Hannah came out, completely dressed, with her hair, for the moment, neatly tied back. She must have found his comb, too.

"There, I feel much more human now. Thank you." She handed the nightshirt back without looking at him, blushing. "Did I hear you talking to someone?"

"Just Gwinny. She is seeing to our breakfast."

"Are you sure that's all right? For me to stay little bit longer?"

He shrugged. "If there is any harm done, it is done already."

"I'm glad. I am famished," she admitted. She looked at him with a soft, teasing smile. "You know, you don't look nearly so intimidating in a nightshirt with bed hair and a two-day-shadow."

He stepped back with an annoyed glance. He was aware that even at the best of times his appearance left much to be desired, but he knew well enough that right now he must "look a fright" without her taking it upon herself to point out that fact, thank you very much. His mouth closed in a tight line. Well, he would take that as his cue to take himself off to the bathroom as well.

As he turned to go, she put a hand on his arm, and he paused for a moment.

"I'm sorry," she said contritely. "But I really didn't mean that in a bad way at all."

His only answer was a non-committal grunt as he closed the bathroom door behind himself.

When he re-emerged, dressed and shaved, she wasn't in the bedroom. He found her in the sitting room, thanking Gwinny for breakfast and for alerting the staff to their absence. The small table between the armchairs was filled to overflowing - a pot of tea, scrambled eggs, perfectly crisped rashers of bacon, a stack of buttered toast, a bowl of fresh fruit, stewed tomatoes...His mouth started to water, and he felt suddenly faint. He quickly seated himself in the empty chair.

Gwinny looked at him with a satisfied grin, gave a conspiratorial wink, and whispered, "Like a clam, sir!" before disappearing again.

.-.-.-.

Hannah poured out the tea for him as he loaded his plate. For a while - other than comments on the food, or a request to pass the salt - there was no other sound than that of two empty stomachs being satiated. When they had both eaten their fill, Hannah leaned back with satisfaction.

"There, I feel ready to face the world again. - I should probably go back to my quarters," she said half-heartedly. Color rose to her cheeks, and she looked down as she continued. "I just want to thank you again for letting me stay. I think I would have gone stir-crazy on my own. It was...very kind of you."

Severus raised an eyebrow at her formal tone of voice, but she didn't notice. Still looking down, she nervously played with the edge of the tablecloth. "So, tell me, how long have you known?"

He took a sip of his tea before answering. "That you are a... erm, a Squib? I suspected fairly early on. You never used a wand, never said a spell, did everything by hand...I would have to have been blind over the last few months not to notice. I became certain when you asked me to light the fire."

"So when you asked me to do it myself, that was a sort of test?"

"In a way."

"Why did you never say anything?" She finally lifted her eyes.

He shrugged. "I figured you would tell me if you wanted me to know. I did not wish to embarrass you."

"So you think it is embarrassing to be a Squib?" There was a sharp note to her voice.

His eyes narrowed. "I said nothing of the sort. I simply thought it was your secret to tell."

She was quiet for a moment. "I was going to tell you..." Her voice faded out.

"Back in my office?"

"Yes. I've wanted to tell you for months. I was just too afraid you'd..." She swallowed hard. "I wish you would have said something."

"Afraid I would do what?"

Hannah looked down at her hands. "This is awkward for me to talk about."

He leaned back in his chair. "Take your time."

With a jerky movement, she got up and walked over until she stood in front of his desk, her back towards him. For a moment, she stood quietly, then spun around to face him.

"Do you have any idea what it's like? To be born into this wonderful world - and you don't have what it takes to function in it? To look at all the people around you to whom magic comes as naturally as breathing, and know that you will never, no matter how hard you try, be able to have what they have?"

With nervous, short steps, she started pacing the room. Severus followed her with his eyes as she moved back and forth, the words coming out in a torrent.

"Do you know that many of us don't survive childhood, killed or severely injured by relatives desperate to 'coax the magic out of them'? And the ministry turns a blind eye and calls it 'accidents'? How many commit suicide, because we are neither here nor there, and don't really fit in anywhere? It is hard to even find records, because the Ministry doesn't give a fig about Squibs, so why bother keeping track?

"There are the looks you get when people find out - some embarrassed, avoiding eye contact, others laughing and making stupid comments behind your back, still others with pity in their eyes, secretly glad that it is you and not them. The same kind of looks my father was afraid he would get if someone found out - and he did, didn't he? Did you see them yesterday?"

She stopped in front of the door, her back to him, before she continued speaking. Her voice dropped down low, almost to a whisper. Severus leaned forward, elbows on his knees, in order to catch what she was saying.

"I didn't tell you the worst part of the story yesterday - the one where Father put on the show for Uncle Theo? You see, he didn't tell me he was going to do that, to have the house-elf use her magic to make the ball float up. So I swished and flicked, and muttered 'Wingardium Leviosa', not expecting anything to happen because nothing had ever happened before and the ball moved! For one precious hour, I thought I actually had it, that I finally got it. Magic. I was so deliriously happy I was trembling. Until the moment after the rest of the family left when my father sat down, laughed at silly little me, and explained the whole thing." She turned back around, and he could see the tears he had heard in her voice. "Father thought it was the grandest joke."

She wiped her face on the sleeve of her robe, and then resumed pacing, the heels of her shoes making clacking noises on the hard flagstone floor.

"And then everyone else my age went off to Hogwarts, and I was sent away to a boarding school in Switzerland and could only come home during the summer - and after my mother died, even that stopped."

With eyebrows drawn together, Severus looked at her questioningly. "Why did he let you stay with Flitwick? Wasn't he afraid Flitwick would find out?"

Hannah laughed, tears still hanging in her eyelashes. "Flitwick found out all right, bless his heart. He actually found out when he went to a conference that was also attended by the Charms mistress of Beauxbatons and told her that Lydia Hannigan, the deceased mother of one of her students, had been a good friend of his, and how was dear Hannah doing? On further interrogation, the poor woman sniffed that if they had an English student at the school, she would most certainly know about it, and he could rest assured that there was no such person. Armed with that information, he dug around some and then confronted my father with certain facts. For one, that it was disgraceful that Liddy's daughter was to be raised away from the magical world and kept away from home, and that if my father didn't want me during holidays, he and his sister would take me. And that if Father agreed to let me go, he, Flitwick, would do his best to suppress certain information that he was otherwise quite sure would leak out into the public. In other words, he engaged in a lovely bit of blackmail."

Severus looked at her with a smirk. "I knew there was a reason I liked Flitwick."

Briefly, Hannah paused, and a smile lit up her face. "He is really something, isn't he?"

Severus leaned back in his chair. "So, back to the topic?"

The look of worry returned to her face. She stood for a moment, rubbing her hand across her mouth and chin, thinking.

"I'll try to explain. - If you are a Squib, you have two options, really. To find yourself a nice Muggle man, get married, and live a nice Muggle existence, leaving the magical world far behind, or stay single. No wizard will marry a Squib."

"But wizards marry Muggles quite often; it is certainly not unheard of..."

"But I am not a Muggle." She stood with her fists balled at her side. "I am a Squib. No one blames a Muggle for not being magical; it is what is expected. But a Squib - we are defective, damaged, deficient...we were supposed to be magical and weren't. It's not the same thing.

"You see, a few times I met someone, during the summer or seeking out magical gathering places where I worked. And at whatever point I would bring it up, that would spell the end of the relationship. So, I made this rule for myself. If there was someone I liked, and there was only friendship, I wouldn't have to tell. I figured I was entitled to that. But if it started to look like there was something more, I would have to. Because it simply wouldn't be fair to let someone's heart get involved and then dump the fact that I am a Squib on him.

"And then I met you. When I saw you last summer, you were so different from anyone I had ever talked to. And I wanted to get to know you. So I hit upon a way I could for once indulge myself - with a predetermined end, no complications or expectations, there would be no reason for you to know, no matter what happened. Now granted, not much did happen. But that was the general idea. I'm sorry. That probably sounds horrid."

"I think I am starting to understand the 'Oh no, not you' comment you made when we met again," he said dryly.

"You remember that?" she asked sheepishly.

"Yes, I do." He looked at her with a half-smirk, half-smile.

"It was just that I thought that I would need to tell you now. And, gads, I didn't want to. As it turned out, your 'daddy's little spy' tirades neatly solved that problem for me. At least for the moment."

It was his turn to look sheepish now. He cleared his throat. "So - back to the question?"

She sighed, running a hand over her eyes. "I thought that would be obvious by now. I have come to value you...your friendship too much, I'm afraid. I just didn't want to lose that. I was scared that if I told you, you would all of a sudden conveniently develop an insanely busy schedule, and oh-so-regretfully not have much time to come by at all any more."

"And why would I do that?" His face had drawn into immovable lines again

She held her hands out to him, palms up. "Severus, there has never been any other kind of response. Well, that's a lie - but at least that was the response from those at least marginally concerned about hurting my feeling. What was I supposed to think?"

"So what made you decide to finally tell me?" He felt almost cruel asking the question. But he needed to hear the answer.

She started pacing again, color rising in her cheeks. "I don't know how to say this without sounding stupid or presumptuous. You see, I had no idea that you knew..."

He watched as her steps quickened, back and forth. Finally, he stood up and caught her by the arm as she walked by him.

"Just tell me," he said firmly.

"All right." She stood motionless for a moment, drawing a couple of quick breaths. "If I applied my rule to myself, I would have had to tell you months ago, but I figured I could deal with my own feelings. But then, up in the turret, when you... when I...I thought that just maybe..." She looked away again, biting her lip.

He crooked his forefinger under her chin and gently tilted her face up until their eyes met again. "You thought what?"

"I thought just maybe for you there was something more than simply friendship, too. - I'm sorry," she whispered, cheeks flaming. "I told you it would sound presumptuous; you never said anything, it was just a feeling. I'm sorry."

She gazed up at him, wide-eyed and flushed, looking like she was hoping the ground would open up and swallow her, groping around for words. "No one's ever stayed, Severus. It wouldn't have been fair."

He blinked as he saw the look in her eyes. For a long moment, he stood still, eyes locked with hers. He reached up with his other hand, and gently ran a finger across her cheek.

"I knew. And I am still here," he said quietly.

"Yes. You are still here," she whispered, and he could hear aching hope in her voice.

His finger still tilting her face up, he ran his thumb across her mouth, tracing the curve of her lips. As he heard her sharply draw in a breath, he slowly bent his head down towards her.

The first touch of his lips was a mere brush, light as a feather. She became still, quiet. He could feel her breath against his mouth, warm, light, rapid. He lifted his hands, fanning out his fingers along her jaw line, into her hair, until his palms cupped her face. She didn't close her eyes as his thumbs ran across her nose and cheeks, gently caressing her skin. "You fret too much," he murmured against her lips as he lowered his mouth to hers again.

Her lips were soft, warm - he was surprised how much warmer than his they felt, gently yielding to the pressure of his mouth. He kissed her slowly, tentatively. Her eyes closed, and he could feel her smile before he could see it.

And then her arms were around him, her hands sliding up his back as she leaned into him, responding now with certainty. A tear slid out from under her closed eyelids as she answered his kiss in kind, still smiling. He could taste it in the kiss, salty and sweet at the same time.

A minute later, she leaned back a little, breathless, her eyes shining. "You kissed me," she said, as if she couldn't believe it, and he could hear the happiness in her voice, and it took his breath away.

She was just raising her face to kiss him again when a loud knock on the door interrupted them. With a groan, she buried her face against his neck. "Can't we just tell whoever it is to go away?" she murmured against his throat.

He held her tightly for a moment, and then planted a quick kiss on her head before disentangling himself from her arms. "I think I'd better see who that is," he said regretfully.

When Severus reluctantly opened the door just a crack, he found Albus Dumbledore standing on the other side, holding a copy of the Daily Prophet.

He looked at his Potions master gravely as he handed the paper to him. "Severus, I thought you should see this."